


Baby I Hope (That It's You)

by questionablemotive



Category: Hardy Boys - Franklin W. Dixon, Nancy Drew (Video Games), Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: But I had so much fun writing it, F/M, I spent three days writing the first draft, It is a monster, It is now just shy of 18k words, It was just over 9k words when that was done, Spoilers list in author's note, This does have spoilers for a lot of the games, This thing started as a little oneshot idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22062451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionablemotive/pseuds/questionablemotive
Summary: She didn't mean for this to happen, plain and simple. Frank was never supposed to be an intricate piece of her puzzle, and she was never supposed to fall in love with someone who wasn't Ned. But, well, here we are.OrNancy's journey of falling in love with Frank Hardy, denying it like crazy, before finally accepting it and doing something about it.
Relationships: Nancy Drew/Frank Hardy
Comments: 16
Kudos: 80





	Baby I Hope (That It's You)

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers abound, in some cases including the culprit or end game sequence, for the following games:  
> \- Last Train to Blue Moon Canyon  
> \- The Creature of Kapu Cave  
> \- The Captive Curse  
> \- The Deadly Device  
> \- The Silent Spy  
> \- Labyrinth of Lies  
> \- Sea of Darkness  
> \- Midnight in Salem

She didn’t mean for this to happen.

At first, it had all been so simple- Ned was her boyfriend, Bess and George were her best friends, Deirdre was… Deirdre, her dad had her back, Hannah was the closest thing to a mother she’d had in a long time, and she got to travel the world solving mysteries. The Hardy Boys were childhood friends, family friends, boys she grew up knowing and who happened to share her passion. She loved the boys like she loved everyone else in her life; unconditionally. They knew her _before_. Before Kate went to Scotland and never came back. Before her nine year old world turned upside down and fell apart right in front of her. Before she was the girl with the dead mom. Bess and George knew her before too, and in a way so did Ned. But it was always… different, with the Hardy brothers. Special, somehow. It took her far, far too long to get the piece of the puzzle that was Frank to fit into her life as it should, and it took her twice as long to understand _why_.

~-~

It probably started, if she was honest, on the train. Though, maybe little inklings of it had started before then. Alright, let’s rephrase: It became more apparent on the train.

When Nancy received the invitation to join the Hardy Boys on a cross-country train mystery trip, she was beyond excited. A chance to ride an old train,  _and_ solve a mystery with the Hardy Boys? She couldn’t say no. She hadn’t seen them in years, since they were still all awkward preteens, kids full of nerves and excitement and good ol’ sleuthing skills. It wouldn’t be the  _first_ mystery she solved with them, but it would be one that mattered. She could feel it in her bones. And when she saw the Hardy Boys waiting for her at the train station, looking both exactly the same and more grown up than she’d ever seen them, she knew her feeling was right. This was the start of something wonderful.

~-~

Looking back on it, it had been a slow progression to the end. She was always more likely to get focused on her cases than her interpersonal relationships, and for a time, Ned had understood and respected that. He’d answered the phone when she called, called her too, and happily bounced ideas about the case back and forth for her benefit. He’d been sweet and caring, with that locket he gave her before her trip to Venice, had happily seen her off to Ireland for a friend’s wedding, among other things as well. He was also good friends with the Hardys, and trusted her working with them when she got the rare chance to.

But then Germany happened. If she’s totally, 100% honest? That fight had been coming for a while. A long while. It wasn’t like going to Castle Finster was the first time she’d changed plans for a case and ended up disappointing someone back home, or even the first time she’d left  _Ned_ hanging because of a case. But for some reason—maybe it was the time of night, or the time difference, or even the crappy reception—her changing their plans, again, was too much for him. 

“So what? I’ll just hang out at home being bored. Nancy Drew, International Sleuth, gets to go out adventuring while Ned stays at home. Again.” He’d said, a remark that stung. He  _knew_ how important her cases were to her. How much she lived for mysteries and solving them. But no, he was upset at being home, alone, again. It wasn’t like he didn’t have friends, or other things to do! He was in college, for god’s sake! He should have a  _million_ things to do, and no opportunity to miss her at all. It wasn’t like she had many opportunities to really miss him. And ultimately, maybe that was the problem.

...

It’s Frank that calls her first, asking what she did to Ned. She’s concerned for Ned, of course, but ultimately, it’s  _her_ that calls Frank back. He’s always been someone she trusts, and she needs an outside opinion on the case. Honestly, she’d call him more if they weren’t so damn busy all the time. He’s compassionate, and kind, and listens without judgment or pity as she explains, in more thorough detail, what happened with Ned.

"It's funny that I'm more comfortable tracking down some dangerous saboteur than I am having one of those 'relationship talks.'" She confides in him, voice quiet, the receiver tucked tightly against her face, as if saying it out loud makes it real.

“Me too,” He replies, voice soft and comforting but not pitying or demeaning, “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

And in that one moment, she feels more heard, more understood, than she  _ever_ has before. Her breath catches in her throat, before she shifts the conversation back to the case. Safe ground. Neutral ground. And Frank, well… Frank is more than happy to theorize with her, just like he’d been on the train all those cases ago. Later, when she and Ned are back together, and things are fixed, a little voice in the back of her mind says that she felt happier theorizing with Frank than she had doing anything with Ned in a long time. She promptly tells that little voice to shut the hell up.

~-~

Having the boys to work with on the train turns out to be the best thing about the trip, aside from the mystery, of course. They mostly stick to the car where Lori vanished, creating a sort of home base there. Nancy finds herself running back and forth, between the train cars, from person to person as she finds information. And when she finds Lori, she immediately goes back to Frank and Joe. She tells the boys about what happened, finding Lori, the mystery, the letter, Jake Hurley’s weird mechanical car- everything. And Frank just… sits there and listens, with an attentiveness that shouldn’t thrill her the way it does. Joe listens too, throwing in his little comments from time to time, until he decides to hunt down the restroom and vanishes into the train, leaving Nancy and Frank alone for the first time in years.

“You think Lori’s onto something, here?” Frank asks, after a moment, his eyes still studiously on the faded paper. Nancy leans forward a little bit to look at it herself, bringing her soft red hair swinging closer to Frank’s arm, and stirring the air around him slightly. For just a second, she’s hit with the scent of pine and vanilla, and forgets how to speak. She swallows, clears her throat, and looks over the letter.

“I think that Lori’s full of it, but...” Nancy sits back, and tucks a bit of hair behind her ear, teeth pulling softly at her lower lip, “I think that Jake Hurley was hiding something. Something big. That train car back there is too carefully designed for there  _not_ to be something.” 

Frank nods slowly with her as he listens, smiling softly in the light of the fake chandelier and the lamps in the car. “Well whatever it is, Nance,” he starts, putting his hand atop hers to give it a reassuring squeeze, “we’ll find it. Together,”

And if that sends her heart fluttering like a caged hummingbird? Well… She’ll just keep that to herself.

~-~

That night in Germany, something irrevocably changes in two of Nancy’s dynamics- her dynamic with Ned, and her dynamic with Frank. More and more, she finds herself leaning on Frank, and slowly withdrawing from Ned. Nancy’s still busy enough that she didn’t notice it at first- what with being arrested for an arson she didn’t commit, and running off to Egypt on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work with archaeologists to uncover a missing tomb, she never really gets to think about it until Colorado, when her world shifts just a little bit more.

...

Sadly, the murder of Niko Jovic isn’t the first murder she’s worked. What feels like forever ago now, but can’t have been more than a year or two, she solved the murder of a student at a high school in Florida, where Aunt Eloise lived. She wishes she could say that the idea of a killer hanging around scared her enough to stop, which her father would certainly like. That it kept her up at night, wondering when she’d get too close and get attacked. It doesn’t. At this point, she’s used to people trying to kill her, so the idea of facing down a murderer doesn’t even phase her anymore. It’s probably not healthy, especially when she gets a call from Frank and Joe, and  _Joe_ expresses concern over her trying to outsmart a killer. 

She also wishes she didn’t revel in the conversations with the boys, that her dreams weren’t filled with Frank’s baritone voice and comforting presence. She writes it off as mild delirium from the short naps she’s been taking, and weird hours of the day she’s been functioning. She passes the comfort in her conversations with the Hardys off as mere thankfulness for other detectives to bounce ideas off of. It works.

And then she almost dies.

Victor figures out she’s onto him, that she knows Niko was afraid of Victor, and he locks her in a broken Faraday cage, and she has to scramble to put together the motherboard that will keep her from being fried like Niko was. And then Gray helps her, helps her stop Victor, and she’s free. She’s back in River Heights before she’s able to get a new phone, one that hasn’t been fried by Niko’s fun electronic wall of technological doom, and she hears the voice message. And listening to Joe’s panicking, followed by Frank’s sincere near confession of…  _something_ , the gravity of it all hits her. 

She almost  _died_ . And Frank was  _scared_ for her. Oh, god. Just like that, she’s in Hawaii again, on the ledge in that horrible cave, watching Frank be threatened and then desperately fighting to keep calm as she guides Frank across the dissolving, crumbling rocks to safety, praying she doesn’t pick a wrong move and lose him. Lose someone else. And the panic had nearly swallowed her whole.

…

She never asks Frank what he wanted to say on that message. What he always... While she’s in Georgia, hunting more metaphorical ghosts than real ones, Bess says he’s acting weird, specifically calls him “sullen.” Unfortunately, between the hallucinations, almost dying in a fire, and having to rescue three people from the burning building, Nancy forgets to question why he’s being weird, forgets to act upon the thought that him being weird could have to do with that unfinished message. And then her phone rings in the middle of the night, and she’s on a plane to Scotland with her whole world crumbling around her again.

~-~

By the time the train stops in Copper Gorge, Nancy knows she’s onto something, and the Hardy Boys know it too, judging by the looks Frank keeps sending her, and the way Joe can barely sit still the closer they get. The trip to Copper Gorge takes a while, about twelve or so hours, from when Nancy gets the information she needs on the train. So there’s time to talk, to get to know the boys a little more again. She finds herself charmed by Joe, amused at their antics, and soothed by Frank. She can’t explain it, but when they pile off the train and decide to split up, everything in her tells her that she can trust Frank wholeheartedly to find something to help in their search. And she knows Joe will do his best to help, too. He always does, and he’s not as stupid as he looks, or sometimes seems. He’s got as keen an eye for information and details as she and Frank do. His idea of… important information is just… different, that’s all.

And sure enough, the boys deliver. Well, Frank does. Turns out, the information they need from the grandchild of Jake’s engineer could be obtained while they go get Joe a _cheese_ burger. Only Frank has to be a short order cook. At first, when he calls her, it’s to give her a small update, and complain a small bit. He tells her about the old miner’s unique situation with the bell, and she finds it endearing as he talks. She wishes him luck, and the next thing she knows, they’re all back in the train, talking about the information the boys had gotten. And then, there’s the second letter. A letter from none other than Samuel Clemens. And as Frank’s telling her about it, he gets this sparkle in his deep brown eyes, one that Nancy is all too familiar with, having seen it in the mirror on herself countless times before.

“I know I should turn it over to Lori, and I will! It’s just… So darn cool!” Frank says, eyeing the letter with something akin to reverence that makes something in Nancy soften and melt, a warmth blooming through her chest that she chooses to ignore. Joe, thankfully, makes that easy.

“I still don’t get what the big deal is! It’s not like it’s from Mark Twain or something!” Joe casts a quick look between his brother and Nancy as they stare at him, probably with matching incredulous stares. “What?” He asks, confusion evident.

“Sometimes, Joe, I wonder how we’re related.” Frank says, shaking his head at his brother and casting a ‘can you believe this?’ look at Nancy, who has to smother a grin.

“I wonder that all the time myself,” Joe intones, and Nancy shakes her head, about to intervene when her phone starts vibrating in her pocket. With Frank and Joe embroiled in a mini-argument of sorts, Nancy’s free to slip her phone out and check the caller ID. It’s Bess, whom she promised she’d get back to earlier. Whoops. When she looks up, Frank’s eyes are on her. He’s noticed.

“It’s Bess, so, I’m gonna go take this, I’ll be back later,” Nancy says, offering the boys a quick wave as she stands, smiling at them. As she’s leaving she hears the brothers going back and forth in hushed tones over something she can’t quite catch, but finds herself smiling at their antics anyways. She could get used to having these two around.

Nancy slips from the dining car, across to the sleeper car, putting her phone to her ear and answering as she does. “Hey, Bess, what’s up?” Nancy asks, stepping around past the… slightly unsettling goat head to lean against the wall by the window.

“Nancy! I’m so glad you answered. Listen, I’m  _dying_ to know: What’s it like to finally work with Frank and Joe Hardy?” Bess gushes almost immediately. Nancy’s reminder that she’s worked with them before is preemptively interrupted by George, of course.

“Oh, Bess, you’re incorrigible.” George says, and Nancy can practically hear her shaking her head at her cousin. Nancy herself has to bite her lip to keep from laughing at their antics. Between these two, and the Hardy brothers, she’s never bored, that’s for sure.

“Hey, if you don’t want to hear, just go over there and don’t listen!” There’s a momentary pause, during which there’s no shuffling of movement or sound other than the slight crackle of the reception and speaker phone. “She’s listening. So, what’s it like?” Bess really is incorrigible.

“It’s… pretty great, honestly,” Nancy says, her free hand coming up to twirl in the wavy locks of her red hair. “Frank’s attentive, serious, and methodical, while Joe is more… Happy-go-lucky and kind of impulsive,” She chuckles at that, “It makes for an interesting combination. Though, of course, they’re both amazing detectives,”

“They’re not trying to boss you around and be all manly all the time?” Bess asks.

“Oh, no, not at all. They’re great,” She says, smiling, “Really great,” She says it a bit softer than she meant to, but she can’t help it. This trip… Working with the boys has been… Ideal. So, very ideal.

“That’s good. Especially because George has a thing for Frank,” Bess says it all conspiratorially into the phone, like it’s some huge secret, and damn if that doesn’t cause something in Nancy to clench up, something angry and possessive settling in the pit of her stomach at the thought. She’s so lost in it that she almost misses George’s, no doubt red-faced retort that Bess likes Joe, and Bess’s indignant ‘hey!’ in reply.

“Well, the  _real_ question is,” George says, finally cutting into Nancy’s thoughts and distracting her from the ugly feeling in her gut  that she shies away from naming, “which one does Nancy like?” Sometimes, Bess and George were too alike for their own good.

“Ooh, yeah! Which one do you like?” Bess asks, the question now directed at Nancy. There’s a moment of hesitation, before the possessive creature that just decided to exist inside Nancy takes over, and before she can stop it, her answer comes tumbling truthfully past her lips.

“I… kind of like Frank,” she says, startled by how deeply that resonates within her. She really does like Frank, doesn’t she?

“I knew it!” Bess exclaims, “You’re as much of a sucker for those boyish good lucks as I am!” Nancy immediately wants to correct Bess, tell her that, while his looks are nice, they have nothing to do with why Nancy likes him. That he’s sweet, and kind, and beyond attentive. That he’s supportive in all the best ways, and that she feels  _heard_ and  _understood_ when she’s with him in a way she never has before. Then she realizes what she’s just said, and the possible repercussions of it, and a mild panic sets in.

“You’re… not going to tell him, are you?” She says, keeping her voice level, as she realizes she definitely should not have said anything to Bess. She should have said she doesn’t like either. She likes Ned. Which, well, is only partially the truth- she likes Joe as a kind of… brother, and she does like Frank. She also definitely likes Ned. A lot.

“Me?” Bess replies, “My lips are sealed,”

“The way they were when I told you that I liked that boy who works at the snack shop?” George’s deadpan expression can practically be  _felt_ at this point.

“That was different!” Bess exclaims,

“How was it different?” George’s voice holds mild amusement, and slight annoyance.

“I was younger then, and had less self-control!” Bess argues, and Nancy can practically feel the proof that she isn’t capable of handling a secret like that coming.

“That was last week.” And there it is.

“Oh. Right.” Bess sounds sufficiently like a scolded puppy, the wind let out of her sails.

“Don’t worry, Nance, if she starts to say anything to Frank, I’ll stomp on her foot to shut her up,” George says, amusement clear in her tone as she does,

“Ow!” Bess cries out, “what was that for?!”

“Practice.” George says, and Nancy can picture her shrugging. The conversation switches back to the case after that, and Nancy decides somewhere during it that it’s okay to like Frank, because she likes Ned more, and she chose to be with Ned. And that’s what ultimately matters. The conversation is filed away as something ridiculous that could only happen with Bess and George, and when it’s never brought up by any party ever again, it’s easy to forget it happened at all.

~-~

Ned ends up being the one Nancy leans on while she’s solving her mother’s murder, her desperation to know what happened and her fear of being shut down leaving him as the only one she can trust besides her father. She nearly calls Frank three times that trip, in various states of anxiety and panic each time. Once when Moira is taken, again when her room is trashed, and she has his contact pulled up and everything after Revenant finally attacks, a sniper’s honed dot on her forehead leaving her hands shaking slightly, and her breath coming in small, sharp inhales. Ultimately, she can’t make herself hit dial, and calls Ned instead. Only she downplays what’s happening, how scared she really is this time, so as not to worry him, or her dad. It’s only in the aftermath that she finally, finally, makes that one call.

…

She’s sitting on the bed of a less fancy, nondescript hotel in Glasgow, put up there by her father until her flight in the morning. Part of her is likely still in shock- what with being shot at, working as some kind of spy, Diffusing a horrible, chemical bomb… It’s been one hell of a day. By now, she’s reread her mother’s letter at least half a dozen times, and each time has only made the dull ache in her chest turn into a broken throbbing. She’s so close to falling apart, and maybe that’s what pushes her to do it. Maybe being on the edge of a mental breakdown is what gets her to finally push dial on the contact labeled “Frank Hardy.”

“Hey, you’ve reached Frank Hardy. I’m not able to take your call right now, so leave a message at the beep.” Somehow, this makes it harder.

“Hey Frank, it’s… uh, it’s me. Nancy. You’ll never believe the week I’ve had. I’m… I’m in Scotland right now, and I’ve been… I’ve been following my mom’s clues. Frank, she was a _spy_ . That’s why she left. She left all these… these codes, and-and puzzles for me to crack, and I was able to keep what she was trying to protect out of the wrong hands, but it’s been so hard… And… She wrote me this letter, and I can’t stop reading it, and I’m coming home tomorrow, and all I can think about is you and- and how much I wanted to talk to you and-”

_“Message length exceeded. To confirm your message, hang up or press zero. To rerecord your message, press pound._ ” Nancy lets out a shuddering breath, closing her eyes tightly against the tears building under her lashes. She pulls the phone away from her face, and brings up the dial pad. With shaking fingers, she presses the pound button. 

“Hey, Frank, it’s Nancy. Realized I hadn’t heard from you in a while, thought I’d check in, see how you guys were doing. Give me a call back when you can!” She ends the call before she breaks down altogether.  _First, there’s nothing you could do to let us down_ , her mom’s letter had said. As Nancy curls up in a ball on that bed in a nondescript hotel somewhere in Glasgow, her phone clutched to her chest, and sobs wracking her body, a part of her is pretty sure she just had.

~-~

Nancy’s deep in thought, staring at Jake Hurley’s insane train car, trying to figure out where the final pieces of this puzzle go. Where Hurley hid his mine. She’s  _this_ close to it, and she knows it, but she’s not 100% sure where to put all the pieces yet. So, of course, that’s when Frank finds his way into the weird car. 

“Whoa, you weren’t kidding about this thing,” Frank says, following the statement with a low whistle. Nancy turns to look at him, a smile already spreading on her face as he looks around the car. Surely, he’d seen it before on his way through the train.

“Jake Hurley may have been crazy, but he was definitely not stupid,” Nancy replies, the banter coming as easily as breathing to her.

“I’m inclined to agree- especially with the crazy part,” Frank says, a smile tugging at his mouth before he comes to a stop next to her, looking over the materials she currently has assembled on the table in the middle of the car. She chuckles softly, fondly. For a moment, there’s silence- him, looking over the map hooked onto said table, the transcribed riddle and eclectic notes in her journal, and the shiny precious stones spread out alongside the map. And her, watching him as he scans over it all. Instead of commenting on something that she could be missing, he flicks her journal back a page, looking at a rough sketch of the machine next to the table. He looks at it, back at the stones, and back at the drawing, surrounded by Nancy’s cramped handwriting.

“I have all the pieces, I’m just… Missing something. I  _thought_ I had the gemstones right, but I guess I didn’t, because the machine wouldn’t activate correctly when I tried,” she says, crossing her arms with a little huff of frustration. Frank makes a sympathetic noise, turning his head towards the machine again. 

“Well, let’s try it again,” Frank says softly, and Nancy’s head jerks up to meet his gaze. “We’ll do it together. I’ll read the riddle, you can place the stones?” He offers, and Nancy gives a small nod of agreement. She picks up the stones, he picks up her journal, and they head over to the machine, Nancy opening the first pod. “Okay, so, the eye of the tiger is fixed on a star,” Frank begins, and Nancy carefully selects the Tiger’s Eye out of the little bag she’d slid the stones into, pushing the door closed and swinging the contraption around until she found the compartment with the starfish. Frank patiently waits while she does this.

“Okay… Tiger’s Eye on the star, check,” she says back, and he turns to the journal with a nod.

“Zircon lies in fingers that scar,” he frowns for a moment at that, “none of those looked like fingers that scar,” he says, shooting Nancy a look as she pulls the zircon from the bag. She merely gives him a look back in return, spinning the machine around one by one until she comes to the one she’d been thinking of when he read the clue aloud- the weird, bony metal with tiny, silver talons on the bottom. She places the Zircon in the top confidently. Frank gives her a puzzled look.

“It’s talons. Talons scar- will you just trust me?” She demands when his look only deepens.

“Always,” He says, softly, drawing heat to her face as she looks down towards her feet. The moment drags on a second, before he clears his throat and reads the next line. “Amethyst floats in a hand from the deep,” at this, Nancy scowls.

“And this is where I get stuck,” She mutters, “There’s two that could fit- One that  _could_ be a fin, and a tentacle,” she huffs out a breath, “of course, the tentacle could also be the ‘arm that ensnares’, I don’t know.” She looks back at Frank to find him studying the book, mouthing the riddle to himself, his head cocked to the side. She can’t help but smile at him while he does, remembering the tick well from when they were kids.

“I’m gonna say…. Go with the fin. Makes… more sense, than the tentacle,” he finally decides, a pretty flush appearing on his face when he looks up to find her watching and smiling at him. She nods, turns to the correct pod, and carefully affixes the amethyst above the fin. “Okay, so, then it goes… Citrine is what the fowl mouth shall keep… Huh, you’re sure it’s ‘fowl’, f-o-w-l, and not ‘foul’, f-o-u-l?” He questions, to which he gets a look as she hunts for the pod with the beak. “Okay, you’re sure.” He holds a hand up placatingly, and she finds herself fighting back laughter. When she finds the beak, she pulls out the shiny citrine. “And you’re sure that one is the citrine?” He questions, eyeing it.

“Of course I’m sure. There’s a book about gemstones in Jake’s car- I’ve been looking at it,” she says, holding the yellow gem up for him to inspect, “this is what citrine looks like when it’s polished!” Then she notices Frank’s lips twitching and she scowls at him. “Not funny, Frank,” she reprimands, and puts it in the holder above the beak, snapping the pod closed with a little more force than strictly necessary.

“Hey, you can never be too careful when you’re working with gemstones. Citrine and some versions of zircon can look similar.” She shoots him a tired look, and he offers a sympathetic smile. “Tourmaline is by a soft arm ensnared,” he continues, pausing a moment, “okay, I think this is the tentacle one. You uh… You know which one is tourmaline?” He asks, only to see her holding it up from her bag as she turns the machine with her other hand. “Of course you do,” He says, with something like praise in his tone. She fixes it above the tentacle, and shifts the machine again.

“That leaves peridot which-”

“Rests at the foot of the mare,” They say in unison, and she smiles, opening a pod with a hoof.

“Now I’d call that a mare’s foot, wouldn’t you?” She playfully tosses over her shoulder, to which Frank studies the hoof and nods, very seriously, even with a grin tugging at his face. She fixes the peridot in place and closes the pod. “I’ve done everything else, so… That  _should_ do it… If I’m right...” Nancy mumbles, half to herself. She heads over to the pickax, with Frank on her heels. 

“Um… What happened there?” He asks, gesturing at the ax itself, splintered and clearly broken, but held together with some kind of… tape.

“Too many coconuts,” Nancy answers, to which he gives her a sidelong look. “I’ll explain it later,” she promises, “for now, let’s just see if this bad boy works.” She pulls on the handle, and it slowly ticks through each one, all of them  _finally_ coming up green. They watch in amazement as the machine does it’s job, and the lightbeam focuses in on the location on the map. “I… can’t believe that worked!” Nancy squeals, bouncing up and down next to Frank, who is grinning ear to ear when she turns to him. She all but throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. To her surprise, her excitement must be infectious, as he picks her up off the ground and spins her around once.

“It sure did!” He cheers out in the midst of her relieved laughter, setting her down on her feet again. She’s beaming up at him, her hands tucked gently in the curve of his elbows, while his rest just past her own, and something in the air shifts. For one long, tense moment, Nancy can’t help but notice how much he’s grown and matured over the years. His dark brown hair sitting softly atop his head, just shy of flopping into his eyes. Not slicked back or curved up like Ned’s so often is, and her fingers itch to run through it, see if it’s as soft as it looks. His shoulders have gotten broader, but he’s lean as much as he’s muscular, leaving her feeling safe and protected, rather than overwhelmed. And his eyes… His soft, almost black eyes… Frank shifts forward just a fraction, catching all of Nancy’s attention, and bringing her back to the moment at hand. There was still a mystery to solve, after all.

“I should… Write the location down,” Nancy says, “get it to Lori.” She finishes, slowly pulling back.

“Yeah,” Frank nods, “I should… go tell Joe that… We’re on the right track,” he offers her a hesitant smile that she returns as she heads towards the propped up map, pulling her phone out to take a picture of it. She hears Frank shuffle towards the door, and she just can’t let him leave like that.

“Hey, Frank?” She calls, and he turns towards her, his whole being perking up a bit at her call, “Thanks for the help,” she says it with a warm smile, one he returns wholeheartedly.

“Anytime, Drew,” He murmurs, and heads out the door towards Joe. And somehow, she knows that he means that promise with every fiber of his being. A swooping sensation fills her stomach at the thought. She shakes her head, as if to clear it, and heads the other direction towards Lori. They have a treasure to find.

~-~

Nancy’s… different, when she comes back from Scotland. She can’t fully name it, but it’s like the walls she’d already had up have been reinforced. Or maybe new ones have been erected. She’s not sure, but it feels like something inside of her has been closed off, shut down. She’s a little distant from everyone, at first. Her dad, Hannah, Bess, George, even Ned. Frank does call her back, and they talk for a while. She finds herself  _yearning_ to tell him everything about Scotland, her mom. How he invades her dreams so frequently she almost can’t imagine him not being in them anymore, how she longs to see him, talk to him, just be  _near_ him. How she can’t hold Ned’s gaze for more than a few seconds anymore, and how she’s falling apart inside. Instead they chat about his latest case, the competition spot she and George won for that one show in New Zealand. When she gets off the phone, she can’t help feeling… Hollow. Like someone took her heart out of her body, and she doesn’t know what to do with that. So she pushes it down, compartmentalizes, and throws herself into preparing for the competition.

…

It’s sometime around Greece that things turn south between Frank and Ned. She’s not entirely sure  _what_ happens, as both boys insist they’re fine, and if Joe knows something, he certainly isn’t telling her, but she can’t help but feel like it has something to do with the newly rebranded ATAC resources she asks to use. There is also the distinct possibility that, aside from letting him know she was in Greece as a favor for a friend, she doesn’t talk to Ned the entire trip. But calls Frank and Joe frequently, bouncing ideas off the boys and happily taking advantage of the resources they offer. When Frank tells her that he shares her weird feeling about the museum, her stomach does a funny little flip. Which has been happening a lot, lately. When the results on everyone currently at said museum come up, Frank and Joe express major concern. Especially over Thanos, who has killed someone. She promises to tread lightly, and goes back to it. She gets two texts as the mystery is winding down, after a final, almost frantic phone call with the Hardys on information she needed in order to narrow the culprit down. The first is from Joe, wishing her luck. And reminding her not to use her “witchy powers” on unsuspecting suspects. She rolls her eyes, but smiles anyway. The other, however, is from Frank, and all it says is two words.  _Be careful_ . It settles something in her, something she didn’t know needed settling. She nods sharply, her resolve strengthened, and pops open the box she’d been working on when the texts distracted her. After all, she has people waiting for her at home she has to get back to.

…

Not long after she gets back, the shift becomes more prominent. There’s a clear tension between the boys, Ned and Frank’s interactions stiff and awkward, while Ned tends to hover by her side when the Hardys are in town. She’d label his behavior as possessive, or jealous, if she had any reason to.

(She does, she has many reasons to. But that’s neither here nor there.)

She finds herself questioning what, exactly, went down while she was in Greece more and more. But without any leads to go on, or any idea what actually happened, she’s forced to let it go and move on. Besides, there’s always a new mystery to solve.

~-~

Nancy has only just started into Brimstone Canyon, where Jake Hurley’s long lost mine supposedly is, when she hears the telltale sound of train breaks unlocking and the hiss of steam as the engine starts, and sure enough, she whips around in time to see the train pulling away from the canyon. She takes a deep breath, swallowing down the modicum of panic that rose when that happened. “It’s fine,” She murmurs to herself, “Frank and Joe will make sure it comes back for me. I hope.” With a deep breath, and no option but to go forward, Nancy starts her trek into the canyon. She had to hand it to Jake as she traverses the mine, making mental note of the symbols on boards as she passes them, following the glowing lizards according to the marker on Jake’s color wheel as it changes, that he was a very brilliant man.

Before she knows it, Nancy is standing in front of a cavern blocked by boards with symbols that match the ones she saw on her way down.  _Right. Of course, another puzzle_ , Nancy thinks, looking over the boards carefully, before slowly starting to pry them out in the order she saw them. And just like that, she’s in the cavern. With a Skeleton. “Jake Hurley, I presume…?” She asks, not really expecting an answer. Clutched to the skeleton’s chest were two things- a picture of his wife, Camille, which makes Nancy’s heart give a flutter at the devotion the man had for this lovely wife. Only a year together, but he loved her until his dying day. The other thing was a letter, a letter on official White House letterhead. “Oh my god,” Nancy murmurs to herself, “This is from President Lincoln, and it’s postmarked April 14th- the day he was assassinated! This letter must be worth a fortune!”

“See! That’s what I thought!” Nancy wishes she could be surprised at Lori showing up behind her. Turns out, Lori had also found Jake’s journal, where he’d detailed becoming friends with President Lincoln, and that he’d gotten the very letter in Nancy’s hands, which he knew would be valuable. It was the whole reason for the trip, and for bringing various detectives on board. “Can I have it?” Lori finishes her tale, holding her hand out for the letter. It’s with a small amount of hesitation, a few alarm bells going off in her head, that Nancy agrees, handing over the letter.

“Sure,” As soon as the letter is out of her hands, Nancy knows she’s made a mistake, because of the look that crosses Lori’s face. The growing sense of dread in her stomach only multiplies when Lori begins going on about being famous, the good kind for once. And continues to get Nancy’s name wrong. Nancy’s already taking a few steps back from the entrance to the cavern, surreptitiously looking around for something she can use to defend herself on the chance Lori gets violent, when Lori announces her plan- cause a cave in, and leave Nancy to die, so she can have all the credit. Nancy tries to reason with her, but to no avail, as Lori kicks in one of the remaining boards, and the rocks come tumbling down.

“No no no no no!” Nancy cries, rushing towards the rocks, looking to see if there’s an easy way to shift them. There’s not. A sense of calm rolling over her as the adrenaline kicks in, Nancy takes stock of the cave again- Jake Hurley’s body, rocks, more rocks, and a mine cart. Wait. A mine cart! She doesn’t know where, exactly, the mine shaft lets out, but she figures she can take the cart and at least get to somewhere that allows her to  _find_ a way out. “Okay, here we go,” She mumbles to herself, pushing the cart off and climbing into it, clinging to the sides for dear life as one of the more exhilarating, terrifying roller coasters of her life begins.

~-~

The biggest fracture in her relationship with Ned comes with her trip to Iceland. It’s not that she  _meant_ to forget about their anniversary, she just… Did. Ned wasn’t angry at her, shockingly, but she felt bad that she hadn’t even remembered it at all. Ned was being beyond understanding of her, more than okay to let her do her detective thing, when she calls he seems… Happy. Upon her asking, his answer is long and clearly well thought out.

“You have that 'help people' gene.” He explains, “I firmly believe you're going to save the world one day. At times, I worry like crazy. Even if I'm out with my friends, or at a game, or in the middle of class. I've got one hand on my phone, terrified that I might get that call one day. A call that this time you didn't get lucky.” And the sad truth of that statement is that someday, she might not make it out of one of the scrapes she finds herself in. “And that used to terrify me, but now... I'm not afraid. What I'm trying to say is, I can't imagine life or the world without you. And even though I might get that call someday... I'm not gonna let fear hold me back. I love you Nancy. I love you so much.” His confession settles like a rock in her stomach, joined by a nasty lump in her throat as well. She manages, somehow, to respond appropriately, tell him she loves him too. But inside? Inside she’s screaming, wanting to tell Ned not to love her so much, because she’s not sure if she’s even capable of loving someone like that. She gets off the call not long after that, and takes a few deep breaths to calm herself down, refocusing on the case. At the time, she couldn’t explain it, the dread and fear in her system. In fact it’s a good few months later that she figures out that she was just as scared  being in love as she was of not being in this relationship she’s been in so long she isn’t even sure she can remember what it’s like  _not_ to be in it anymore. Because loving someone? That meant she had something to lose. 

And nothing could be more terrifying than that.

...

It’s Gunnar, actually, who gets through to her. When he asks her to go get the box from the pub after Elisabet threw him out, she agrees without much thought. It doesn’t take much to find the box, and because she’s Nancy Drew, and curiosity may as well be her middle name, she opens the already unlatched box. The contents of the box, though meager, speak volumes about Gunnar’s past. Inside is a photo of a woman, with strawberry blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes. “She… Looks like me...” Nancy murmurs to herself, understanding of Gunnar’s hostility towards her initially dawning on her. The box also contains a 50 th birthday card, seemingly from a daughter, and a newspaper article. About two women who drowned in a boating accident. Gunnar’s wife and daughter. Nancy closes the box, heart heavy, and grabs something she needs for a puzzle she’s found, before returning the box to Gunnar. 

“Thank you,” He says softly, “Did… Did you open it?” Nancy hesitates momentarily before slowly nodding.

“It was unlocked, when I picked it up the top kinda just… popped off. Sorry,” She murmurs, scuffing the toe of her snow boots on the floor of the hallway they’re situated in. He smiles at her, sadly, but appreciates her honesty, and in turn tells her a bit about his family. For the first time, Nancy opens up about her mom, losing her, and the letter. To a man who is supposed to be a suspect, but Nancy has a niggling feeling that Gunnar didn’t do it. He’s a broken man, that much is obvious, but he doesn’t strike her as a kidnapper. As her tale draws to a close, Gunnar puts a hand on her knee, reassuring in it’s way.

“I hope you have someone to share your pain with, Nancy,” he murmurs in that lilting way of his, “there is no pain worse than the pain of loneliness.” With that, Gunnar gives her his clue, and Nancy’s off like a shot to find Magnus. But the conversation lingers with her, part of her stuck on the fact that she hadn’t told Ned about the letter. In fact, the only time she’s mentioned it out loud before tonight was in that message for Frank. She doesn’t want to examine why she told Frank, or tried to tell Frank, before she even thought of telling Ned or her dad. She doesn’t want to admit that the only person she can bear to let in right now isn’t her boyfriend. So, Nancy does what Nancy does best- focuses all her energy into her case, and prays that it’s enough.

It’s not.

…

A week later, after the fishing trip with Gunnar which turned out to be even more enlightening for her, with his gentle prodding making her think more of Frank than of Ned, she and Ned exchange their anniversary gifts. He loves his replica sword, taking it with him almost everywhere, and she loves her gift. No, really, she does. But some of her lack of enthusiasm must show, because Ned’s face falls slightly when he gives it to her. They make a pact, to spend their next anniversary together- in person. And Nancy can’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, they shouldn’t have to make pacts like that to begin with.

~-~

Thankfully, the ride through the mines is short and fast, only requiring minimal direction on her part to keep the cart from careening into certain death. The final slope up slows her enough that, after breaking through the boards at the end of the track, she doesn’t barrel straight into Lori. Lori has enough time to notice her, and lose her own balance in an attempt to dodge Nancy. The letter is dropped in the move, fluttering right within Nancy’s reach to grab. Triumphant, Nancy clambers out of the cart, onto stable ground. “Are you okay, Lori?” Nancy asks, tucking the letter into the pocket of her overalls before offering the heiress a hand to get out of the mud. Unsurprisingly, Lori bats it away, scowling. The blonde opens her mouth to say something, only to be cut off by someone shouting Nancy’s name.

Nancy’s head snaps up at the sound of Frank’s voice. “Nancy!” Frank says, sounding thoroughly relieved and pulling Nancy into a sudden hug, holding her tightly and close for a moment, tension radiating from his frame. “Are you alright?” Frank asks, pulling back and holding onto her shoulders, stooping down somewhat to be at eye level with her. At 5’7”, Nancy’s not exactly what one would call short, but she still feels incredibly small next to Frank’s 6’3” frame. She offers him a smile, giving his arms a gentle squeeze.

“I’m fine. Everything is fine now,” She says, smiling happily at Joe once Frank releases her and steps back to look at Lori.

“As soon as we discovered you and Lori weren’t on the train, we hopped off and high-tailed it back here.” Joe says, his eyes wide with concern. Nancy feels something in her uncoil at the knowledge that these two had her back.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Frank asks, taking in Lori for the first time. Nancy pulls the letter out of her pocket and holds it out for Frank to see.

“See for yourself.”

She spends the time waiting for the train to double back for them- as Lori had told the driver to do for  _her_ when her original plan was to follow Nancy and seal her up in a mine- telling the boys what happened. Frank hovers somewhere between Lori, who isn’t resisting much with the imposing presence of the Hardy brothers there, and Nancy’s side, periodically checking her over like he’s worried she’s not okay. Normally she’d mind, maybe even be mad at being treated as something fragile, but… Something about the way Frank looks at her conveys that he’s more concerned for her overall well being than a lack of belief in her ability to take care of herself. Part of his look holds something of awe in it, that makes Nancy stand just a bit straighter as they wait. 

And if she catches Joe rolling his eyes at them, well… It’s not the end of the world.

~-~

Clarity comes with Salem. It’s funny, in a way, that a case where Nancy is literally poisoned with a hallucinogen, and sees a ghost that truly terrifies her, is the case that brings her the most clarity in her personal life. Not that she immediately acts on it, of course.

It’s Deirdre who brings everything into focus, in the end. Nancy had called the Hardy boys, and discovered them to be in Boston finishing up a case. She hoped to see them, only for them to basically drive down overnight when she, in a voice that shook more than she would like, told the boys about the ghost she saw, and how freaked she was. When she came downstairs to see the mess the kitchen was in, Joe burning breakfast and Frank lecturing him, butterflies went off in her stomach and a lightness filled her chest like an expanding helium balloon. What Deirdre noticed, but Nancy didn’t, is that both Nancy and Frank lit up when they saw one another.

Then there was the matter of her and Ned missing one another’s calls the entire trip, and the constant questioning over her relationship with him from what feels like the entire town. And the matter of the possibility of joining a real detective agency with the boys. It’s so much, it makes her head spin. So, she takes Deirdre’s advice, and invites Ned on a mystery-free vacation. In hindsight, maybe that was a mistake.

…

Nancy’s just returned from her little walk through the neighborhood, talking to Ned, when she finds Frank sitting on the front steps of the porch. She finds herself smiling before she even makes it over to him. “Hey,” she says, startling him slightly, but he smiles fondly when he recognizes her.

“Hey,” Frank replies, his deep brown eyes soft and sparkling in the jack-o-lanterns light. It steals Nancy’s breath away. She lowers her gaze to the stairs next to him, feeling a blush coloring her cheeks.

“So… Is that seat taken or…?” She asks, looking back up at Frank from under her eyelashes.

“Oh! Uh, no, you can… You can sit down,” He says, and with a small smile, Nancy settles herself on the step next to him. A cold breeze blows through, reminding her that it’s the day after a Nor'easter in Salem, in October. She shivers slightly, and presses closer to Frank for warmth. The shiver doesn’t go unnoticed by him, either. “Cold?” He asks softly, his hands already going to his jacket to take it off.

“Just the breeze, I’ll be fine,” Nancy says, quickly putting her hand on his to still them. “Besides,” she continues, swiping her thumb over the back of his hand, “I wouldn’t want you to get cold either.” To her surprise, Frank leans back into her as well, turning his hand to gently lace their fingers together. Her arm feels like it’s tingling, where it’s pressed into his as he shifts their interlocked hands to rest on his thigh. S hockingly , he doesn’t really have a witty retort for her. In fact, he seems just as entranced by their hands as she is. She forces her lungs to take a slow, deep breath, and is overwhelmed with the scent of pine and vanilla, with undertones of something that feels uniquely  _Frank_ . Another slight shiver goes through her, this one decidedly  _not_ from the cold.

“You okay?” Frank asks, his deep baritone voice barely a murmur. Nancy turns her head to find him  _right there_ , his nose inches from her own and this  _look_ in his dark brown eyes. One that Nancy’s seen before, but never quite to that intensity. He’s looking at her with something like awe, reverence. Maybe even love? Her heart sets to racing in her chest, her own blue eyes wide open as they’re locked in some kind of stare down.

“Mmhm,” she replies in lieu of an actual response. It feels like she’s forgotten how to speak. Forgotten all those ridiculously big words she knows. All she can focus on is the way the light reflects off Frank’s eyes, how smooth his palm is under hers. How his hand dwarfs hers by comparison, the way his scent envelops her. She feels so safe, and so wanted here, with him. “Frank...” She breathes, leaning the slightest bit closer.

“Nancy, I...” Frank replies, his breath ghosting over her chin as he leans down towards her as well. Her heart is frantically throwing itself against her ribcage, trying to get free, to get to _him_. Her eyes drop down to his lips, so close and so far all at once, and everything in her longs to just surge forward and close the gap.

She never gets the chance.

The sound of the door opening is enough to snap both of them back to reality, and they spring apart as if burned, though they’re not quite fast enough at getting their hands separated if the sharp inhale from the door is any indication. Nancy turns her head to look, only to find Deirdre standing there with her eyes about as wide as they’ll go, shock written all over her face. Frank seems to notice the look too, as he clears his throat, rubs his hands on his jeans, and stands up.

“I should… get back inside. Make sure Joe hasn’t broken anything,” he says, giving Nancy a quick, wistful smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, while simultaneously not quite meeting  _her_ eyes, and hastily retreats up the steps and back into the party, sliding past Deirdre with a quick nod of acknowledgment. And just like that, Nancy is sitting on the steps, alone, with Deirdre staring at her like she’s lost her mind.  _Yeah, and she might be right._ Nancy thinks bitterly, replaying the moment in her head.

“What. The actual.  _Fuck_ , Drew,” is how Deirdre chooses to begin the conversation. Nancy sighs and turns back to staring out at the street, at Deirdre’s car parked across the street. Anything but at the girl in question. Anything to keep from acknowledging what ever the hell just happened. Or didn’t.

“Deirdre...” Nancy starts with a sigh,

“Ohhh no, don’t you ‘Deirdre’ me, Nancy Drew!” The petite girl’s footsteps are sharp and surprisingly loud as she crosses the porch to stand at the top of the stairs. “You better tell me that I didn’t walk in on what I think I just walked in on, because I  _swear_ , if you’ve been two-timing Ned-”

“Nothing happened!” Nancy snaps, pushing to her feet and walking a few steps down the walkway. “Okay, Deirdre?  _Nothing_ happened, nothing’s  _been_ happening, it’s… Nothing.” 

“Yeah, sure, and I’m the queen of England,” Deirdre retorts dryly, “Whatever I just saw, it definitely was not  _nothing_ ,” Nancy refuses to turn and look at Deirdre, but she can practically feel the look the girl is giving her. Nancy’s hands are clenched into fists at her sides, shame and embarrassment flooding through her system as she thinks over everything. “So what gives, Drew? What’re you doing with Frank Hardy?”

“I don’t know,” Nancy mumbles, feeling tears prickle at the back of her eyes.

“What was that?” Deirdre snaps into the cold air, and even though Deirdre is always snippy, and it’s not even the first time that  _day_ that she’s snapped at Nancy, for some reason, it’s the last straw.

“I don’t know!” Nancy yells, whirling to face Deirdre, tears spilling over as she glares, her fists shaking. Her whole body shaking. “I. Don’t. Know. Okay?” Nancy holds her gaze, watching shock, then confusion, settle in. “God. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” and just like that, all the fight goes out of Nancy. She wraps her arms around herself, shaking slightly with the sheer force of the jumble of emotions running through her right now. Tears are still slowly running down her cheeks as she stares at the flowers lining the Perry walk-up. “I… I have Ned, And… And I love Ned. He should be more than enough, and I shouldn’t… He’s the one I should be dreaming about, the one I should miss when he’s not with me and...” Somewhere in her babbling, Deirdre slowly started to approach, coming to a stop in front of the redhead. “I can’t get Frank out of my head,” her eyes flick up to hold Deirdre’s. If her brain was more functional, less weighted down with emotions, she’d be mildly surprised to find the girl’s gaze full of empathy and understanding. “What’s wrong with me?” Nancy whispers, fear finally settling in.

There’s a moment where Deirdre merely studies Nancy while she cries, body trembling and eyes pleading for help, before she finally decides to say something. “Nothing’s wrong with you, Nancy,” Deirdre says, her voice softer and more gentle than Nancy’s ever heard it, her gaze unwavering as she holds Nancy’s own.

“Then why…?” Nancy trails off, not quite able to raise the question she’s been badgering herself with since Iceland. Deirdre shifts slightly and looks away, clearly biting at the inside of her lip as she thinks.

“Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, you could be in love with Frank?” Deirdre asks, looking up at Nancy, who looks smaller and more lost than Deirdre’s ever seen. “I mean, I’ve seen the way you two look at one another. How you guys act when you’re together, over the last couple of days. You light up like a frickin’ Christmas tree when you see him. I’ve never seen you look like that. I’ve actually never seen anyone look that happy to see another person in my life,” Deirdre continues, voice gentle and almost… wistful, as she speaks. “I mean, I thought the way  _Ned_ looked at you was intense but...” At the mention of Ned, Nancy lets out a sob, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she does.

“What am I doing?” Nancy’s voice is barely a whisper, now, “I can’t. I can’t be in love with Frank. I have Ned, I  _love_ Ned.” 

“Yeah, but… Are you  _in_ love with him?” Deirdre asks, “Because, like, there is a difference. Even I know that,” And just like that, Nancy’s back in Iceland, on that boat with Gunnar, fishing. 

“ _Love should not be a routine, Nancy, it should not make sense on a page. My wife and I didn’t. Never settle, girl. I wouldn’t let my Edda settle. Hell, she’d never settle for less than she deserved. You should do the same. Find someone with passion, who inspires passion within you. For life, love, without passion…? It’s… Empty. And lonely._ ” The old fisherman had said. 

“Oh, god,” Nancy murmurs, the trembling only worsening as she hiccups another sob, “I… I…” Nancy presses her palms to her temples, holding her head as she struggles to come to terms with the concept. All the dreams, the longing ache when Frank wasn’t there, how his texts and calls soothed and excited her all at once, far more than anyone else. One by one, the puzzle pieces click together in agonizing slow motion. Every thought, every feeling that she’d compartmentalized and locked away because she couldn’t handle it, they all come straight to the forefront now. She feels like she’s in a free fall, spiraling out of control, watching helplessly as the ground draws nearer and nearer- “I’m in love with Frank,” And then she hits the ground.  _I’m in love with Frank Hardy_ , she thinks, feels her heartbeat echo with the knowledge. 

And then suddenly Deirdre’s arms are around her, surprising Nancy in a tight hug. Nancy grips back just as fiercely, eyes fixed blankly on the front porch of the Perry house. Staring, but not seeing. The hug lasts for a long time, Deirdre offering comfort and support silently, while Nancy’s whole world crumbles around her and rebuilds itself.

“What do I do?” Nancy whispers, allowing Deirdre to draw back and out of the hug. The way she’s looking at Nancy, it holds an understanding Nancy didn’t know Deirdre was capable of.

“That, I can’t tell you Drew,” Deirdre says, “but I  _can_ tell you that you do need to do  _something_ , and soon. Because as it stands right now? This isn’t fair to anyone. Least of all you,”

Nancy nods slowly, taking a deep breath and wiping at the leftover tears on her face. The one thing Nancy does know is that she needs time to think. And, well… That’s a start.

“I’m gonna head back inside, spend some time with Mei. You good?” Deirdre asks, looking Nancy in the eye.

“No, but… I think I will be,” Nancy replies, and Deirdre nods, turning and heading back for the front door. Nancy follows her, only to settle on the top step of the porch, her arms on her knees, sleeves pulled over her hands, thinking. “Oh, and Drew?” Nancy makes a hum of acknowledgment, turning to look at Deirdre, “You ever tell anyone about this, and you’ll regret it.”

Nancy lets out a genuine chuckle at that, “Understood,” she says, glad some things never change. “And Deirdre? Thanks.”

The look that crosses Deirdre’s face is friendly, and warm, “You’re welcome, Nancy.” With that, Deirdre slips back inside the house full of music and laughter, while Nancy contemplates her next move from the porch steps, feeling absolutely lost, with no idea where to go.

~-~

The trip back to Union Station in Chicago feels entirely too quick, for Nancy. After bringing Lori back on the train and explaining everything, she, Frank and Joe take shifts keeping an eye on Lori, with Tino “supervising” from time to time. It takes them about a day and a half to reach it, running near non-stop back to Illinois, but that time flies by to Nancy. She hardly gets to see the boys, and before she knows it, they’re back in Chicago, disembarking the train, and turning Lori over to her father and the proper authorities. There’s the debacle of Lori being cut off by her father, and Tino taking credit for what Nancy, Frank and Joe  _actually_ did, followed by the argument between Charleena and John Grey. But then, it’s time for the boys to catch their flight back to New York to go touch base at home, in Bayport, before running off on their next case, and for Nancy to meet her father and Hannah outside to head back to River Heights. 

Nancy finds herself… reluctant, to part ways with the brothers. The feeling seems to be mutual as they linger by the doors to the station, ready to head out and go their separate ways.

“This was a lot of fun,” Joe says, to break the silence, “we should do it again sometime! I mean, the mystery solving thing, not the whole… being sealed in a mine, almost dying thing. That part we can do without,”

Frank sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, tilting his head back slightly like he’s developing a very bad headache. “Joe...” He says, exasperated.

“What?! I’m just saying that working with Nancy was a really good experience. We make a good team, and should do it again,” Joe defends. Nancy can see Frank’s about to argue, so she jumps in, cutting him off.

“I agree with Joe, we make a good team. I couldn’t have done it without you guys,” She tells them, giving them both a bright smile.

“Yeah, right,” Joe says with a snort, “You solved the whole thing, we mostly sat back and watched,”

“No, we helped a little,” Frank amends, “But honestly, we couldn’t have solved this without you, Nancy, so… I’m glad you came along,”

“Me too,” Nancy agrees, smiling at him for a long moment. Joe huffs out a sigh and clears his throat, catching both of their attention.

“I’m gonna go say hello to Mister Drew and Hannah, and get a cab for us. I’ll see you both outside,” he says, giving Nancy a big hug, “Call us if you ever need anything, okay?”

Nancy nods into his shoulder, “You too!” She gives Joe an extra squeeze before he heads out the door with one final look at them, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath as he goes. Nancy turns her attention back to Frank.

“Frank, I-”

“Nancy I-”

They both stop and chuckle, smiling warmly at one another, “You, uh, you go first,” Frank says, lifting his hand to rub at the back of his neck, like he does when he’s embarrassed.

“Okay, I… I was going to say that I meant what I said- I couldn’t have done this without you.  _Both_ of you, of course, but… You were really there when I needed you, Frank, and I… I wanted to say thank you, for everything,” Nancy says, watching as a soft blush overtakes Frank’s features. 

“Well, uh, you’re welcome. And, for the record, I’ll always be there if you need something. Joe too, of course. We’re in this together, yeah? Us detectives have to have each other’s backs,” Frank falters a little bit, “or something...”

Rather than let him ramble on and embarrass himself further, Nancy all but tackles him in a hug, her arms thrown around his waist as she squeezes him tightly. She buries her face in his chest, breathing in the soft scent of pine and vanilla and  _Frank_ . His arms wrap around her fairly quickly, his face pressing against her hair as they just stand there, and hold one another for a long moment. As they separate, Nancy follows an impulse to push up onto her toes and give Frank a kiss on the cheek, smiling at the look on his face as she drops back down.

“I’ll talk to you later, Frank. Don’t be a stranger around River Heights, okay?” She says, heading towards the door. Frank seems to regain himself and starts following her.

“Ditto, Nancy. You’re welcome in Bayport anytime.” And with that, the pair walks through the doors, offers one another a final wave, and parts ways.

Not that either Carson nor Hannah say anything, but they both notice that Nancy has a satisfied, somewhat dreamy smile on her face most of the ride home. A smile that definitely has nothing to do with the boyfriend she left in River Heights.

~-~

That mystery free vacation with Ned? Yeah, that ends up not being so mystery free. Honestly, she shouldn’t even be surprised at this point. It’s like she’s a magnet for mysteries. Or maybe she subconsciously looks for them. Nancy doesn’t know. She just knows that she’s curious, some people might say _too_ curious, and once she’s found a mystery, she can’t stop until it’s solved. Though in this case, it’s not for a lack of trying.

At first, Nancy tried to ignore it. She tried to convince herself that there was no mystery, and throw all of her attention into spending time with Ned. But clue after clue kept showing up, until she was suddenly investigating behind Ned’s back. Which worked, for a while. They’d go do something, she’d surreptitiously hunt for clues, or they’d go each do something on their own and she’d investigate then. It’s when she has to ask for help, that she gets caught.

…

In hindsight, maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to call Frank and Joe for information from the hotel room. But she was so close to finding the answer, she just knew it. All she needed was a little help. Ned was  _supposed_ to be out running, or at the hotel gym, or something to that effect, she honestly hadn’t listened too closely. She thought she’d had a little time, to call the boys and get information, but Ned had forgotten something and doubled back to the room. She’ll never forget the look on his face, when she finally looked up from writing down the information Frank and Joe gave her, to see him standing in the open doorway, his hand gripping the door handle so hard his knuckles turned white. It was the worst fight they’d ever had, with actual yelling this time. Nancy can more than hold her own in an argument, but it was so bad that Ned stormed out and didn’t return until late that night. 

By the time Ned walks into the room, Nancy has the case wrapped up, the culprit was being brought to justice, and she’d managed to only come close to death once. All in all, one of her easier cases. She’d been sitting on their shared hotel bed, waiting to see if Ned  _was_ going to come back. She stands up the second he enters the room, dropping the phone she’d been tapping against her fingers to the bed. 

“You came back,” She says, though the strangled feeling in her chest doesn’t loosen any. “I… was starting to think you wouldn’t,” He lets out a dark chuckle, one that sets off a thousand alarm bells, and she swallows, “Listen, Ned I-”

“No,” Ned says softly, and Nancy’s words catch in her throat, “I have something to say, and you’re just gonna… listen, okay?” His voice is oddly calm, and Nancy’s stomach lurches at the resigned look in his eyes when he finally looks at her. “When I first met you, Nanc y , I knew you were special. You’re Smart, beautiful, clever… And endlessly kind. You’ve helped so many people in River Heights, around the  _world_ , and I admire that so much about you,” He takes a step closer to her, “I never,  _ever_ , want to come between you and what you love, Nance,”

“You won’t-” She tries to cut in, tries to preemptively stop wherever the hell he’s going, because her heart is pounding in her chest and anxiety is knotting her stomach, and she doesn’t like this one bit.

“Let me finish, please,” Ned says, and she closes her mouth, “I’d like to think that you’d come to me if you really needed me, but… Instead of asking me to help you, letting me  _in_ , you shut me out again and kept this from me,” he sighs runs a hand through his hair. “You’ve been… different, for a long time now, and… I’ve changed too, so it’s not like it’s all you, but…” He seems to struggle for words for a second, and Nancy lets him, unsure what to say herself, “I love you, Nancy, and I know you love me too, on some level at least, but… It’s not enough anymore, is it?” He asks, voice quiet and dark eyes imploring her to tell the truth. Nancy swallows thickly, holding his gaze for a long moment, before slowly shaking her head. He’s right, it’s not. “I didn’t think so,” he murmurs, “we’ve been drifting apart for a while, heading in different directions, and… I know you have feelings for someone else,” Ned says, and it hits Nancy right through the heart, stealing the air from her lungs in a pained gasp. She wants to deny it, to swear up and down that her heart belongs to Ned and  _only_ Ned, but… She gave her heart away to someone else a long time ago, and she’s not even sure when or  _how_ it happened. The silence stretches on for a long moment, Ned seeming to wait on an actual answer from her this time.

“I’m sorry, Ned,” she whispers, not a confession, not a yes, but a confirmation all the same. And she is, she’s so,  _so_ sorry.

“It’s okay, Nancy,” he replies, smiling sadly at her, “I’ve known this was coming for a while, honestly. You’re… So passionate, and brave, and unable to stay completely still at any given point. Restless. I should’ve known that eventually, you’d fall for someone who can at least  _try_ to keep up.” he explains, reaching up to brush an errant strand of red hair behind her ear and cup her cheek. “Frank’s a lucky guy, honestly,” he says, and Nancy feels like the floor’s just fallen out from under her.

“How-?” She chokes out, eyes watering as she watches her… boyfriend? Soon-to-be-ex?

“I may not be a world class detective, but I’m not blind, Nancy,” he explains in a soft voice, “I see the way you look at him. How he looks at you. And you talk in your sleep, sometimes, and at least twice on this trip, you’ve mumbled his name,” Nancy feels something of a blush flare in her cheeks as she does, she opens her mouth to apologize again, but Ned cuts her off before she can, “it’s really okay, Nance,” he promises. “But I can’t do this to either of us, anymore,” his thumb rubs a circle on her cheek, catching a tear that’s spilled over.

“Ned-”

“Nancy, a part of me will always love you. But we need different things, and I… I can’t stand in your way. Unstoppable force, immovable object, y’know?” He ducks his head a little to be more eye level with her, and she nods slowly, following his line of thinking fairly well, “And we’ll  _always_ be friends, I promise. Just because we’re not together doesn’t mean that I want you out of my life completely,” his laugh has some actual humor to it this time, and it eases some of the tension in her shoulders, “can you imagine how dull my life would be without you calling me up from some foreign country periodically?” She lets out a watery chuckle in return. “I have a flight home in a few hours, I just came to get my stuff. You should stay the rest of the trip, take some time to think, sort out what you want,” he slowly leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a long moment, and a sob escapes her as he does. “We’ll talk soon, okay?”

Nancy nods as Ned heads over to make sure his stuff is all together, and he starts to head towards the door once it is. “Ned?” she calls, and he stops, turning to look at her with his eyebrows raised, “I’m really, truly sorry,” she says, her thoughts slowly collecting themselves, “and for what it’s worth, I still care about you, a lot. And if I could’ve… Maybe...” She doesn’t finish the thought, not entirely sure where she’s going.

“Nah,” he says, giving her one of those special Ned Nickerson smiles, “we both know that you wouldn’t change a thing, and that’s okay, because honestly? I wouldn’t either,” he says, and Nancy chuckles.

“You’re probably right about that,” she admits, and smiles at him. He starts to head towards the door once more, “oh, and Ned?”

“Yeah?” He questions, turning back again.

“You should really give Deirdre a chance, when you’re ready,” she says, “she’s… She’s a lot nicer, a lot better than she seems. I think you’d be good for each other,” Ned tilts his head to the side at that, considering it.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks,” Ned starts, pausing and looking at Nancy, “and Nancy?” She hums at him in acknowledgment, “don’t wait too long to tell him.”

“I won’t.” She promises, and then Ned’s out of the door, and gone. She sits down, and lets out a shaky breath. In spite of the tears, and the dull ache in her chest that no doubt corresponds to the end of a long term relationship, she finds that for the first time in months, she can breathe easily. She smiles, and lets out a weak laugh. It’ll hurt for a while, but… She knows, now, she’ll be okay. And even better, she’s free. And her heart leaps at the thought.

Before she can question it, or even think too hard about the time difference, her phone is in her hand and she’s dialing a familiar number.

“Hello?” comes the groggy voice over the line.

“Hey, Bess, it’s Nancy. I have a favor to ask...”

~-~

A few days later, Nancy’s plane lands at O’Hare international airport, Bess and George waiting for her as soon as she’s past the security checkpoint.

“Nancy!” Bess cries, waving her arms over her head. Nancy grins and rushes forward to give both of her best friends a big group hug. She and Ned have texted a few times over the last few days, and they’re both doing okay, and now she’s with her best friends, about to embark on what may just be the scariest thing she’s ever done.

“It’s so good to see you guys,” Nancy says, squeezing them one more time before Bess takes her left side, George her right, and the three of them march off towards baggage claim. “Thank you both, so much, for doing this with me.”

“Go on a road trip to New York, with minimal explanation, starting right before rush hour from the airport, in Chicago, for reasons you’ve mostly been keeping to yourself? Anytime, Nan,” George says, only half sarcastic. “I seriously expect details on the way, though,”

“Yeah, what’s all this about?” Bess asks, shooting Nancy a look with her wide blue-gray eyes. “You were awfully cagey on the phone...” The blonde trails off, eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry about that,” She sucks in a deep breath, glancing around. It’s not that she’s ashamed of her feelings, or what happened, it’s more that she’s not sure the  _timing_ is right. On the other hand, though, her best friends deserve an explanation. “Well, to put it simply- Ned and I broke up, and I’m in love with Frank Hardy.” Both Bess and George pull up short, turning to stare at Nancy with flabbergasted expressions. Bess’s mouth opens and closes several times like a fish out of water, while George’s jaw drops just slightly.

“WHAT?!” It’s Bess who recovers first, and also potentially hits a decibel and pitch the human voice isn’t supposed to reach so easily. Nancy and George both flinch at the sound, Nancy glancing around at the several people who have turned to stare. “Sorry,” Bess says, a lot quieter now, “it’s just- this is  _huge_ , and how- when-”

“I think what my cousin means to say is- we both have a lot of questions,” George says, to which Bess nods so vigorously, Nancy’s a little worried she’ll hurt her neck.

“You better start explaining, Nancy Drew! And leave nothing out!” Bess says, grabbing Nancy’s arm and practically dragging her towards the baggage claim. Nancy casts a look to George for help, who merely shrugs in reply, catching stride with the pair easily.

“I promise, I will! Just… maybe not here?” Nancy says, “Tell you what, since I’m dragging you guys on this road trip with me, why don’t we wait out rush hour and get some dinner, first? My treat,” Nancy offers as they arrive at the baggage carousel.

“Hmmm…. I accept your offer,” Bess says, “so long as there’s pizza,”

“Done,” Nancy says, with George nodding along. Now, all she has to do is get her bags, and get through dinner and then? Then the truly terrifying portion begins.

…

“Wow, I just… Wow.” Bess says, shaking her head as the trio cross the parking lot towards Bess’s car, Nancy’s story of her growing feelings for Frank, alongside her deteriorating relationship with Ned finally drawing to a close. It’s been decided that George will drive them out of the city, through the first leg of the trip, so George is just a little ahead of them with the keys to the car. “I can’t believe you were going through all of that this whole time, and none of us ever noticed,”

“I can’t believe she never  _told_ us something was going on, I mean, we  _are_ your best friends, Nancy,” George says, heading for the drivers side of the car. Nancy stops near the trunk, and looks between the cousins. 

“I should have told you guys,” Nancy says, slowly, “when it first started happening, I just...” She shifts her weight from foot to foot, rubbing at her arm as she does, “I was afraid...” She can’t bring herself to meet their eyes anymore, “I was afraid If I said something, it’d change things with us… And… If I said it out loud…” Nancy trails off, “I couldn’t, say anything. It would have made it…  _real_ ,” Bess is the first one by Nancy’s side, throwing her arms around the redhead in a warm hug that Nancy quickly returns.

“Nancy, we’re your friends. We’d  _never_ judge you,” Bess says, and George clears her throat, shooting a pointed look at her cousin, “Okay, well, we  _might_ judge you a  _tiny_ bit, but, we’d still love and support you!” Bess doesn’t lose her enthusiasm easily, thankfully.

“Yeah, Nan,” George chimes in coming around the car to give Nancy her own hug, “We’ll always love you, and what you’ve been going through? That’s  _huge_ ,” George says, rubbing Nancy’s arm in a soothing manner when she notices the tears forming in the detective’s eyes, “and we’d never want you to feel like you’re alone,” Bess is nodding along in agreement with her cousin. Nancy looks from George’s tall, lanky, brunette form to Bess’s shorter, curvier, blonde one and finds herself smiling in spite of the tears.

“Thanks, you guys. You’re the best friends I could ever ask for,” she says, wiping at her eyes as she does.

“And you’re the best friend  _we_ could ever ask for,” George says, turning to head back towards the drivers side.

“Yeah, Nan, nothing will ever change that,” Bess agrees, patting Nancy’s arm, before turning and walking up to the passenger door. “Now! Are we gonna go get your guy, or what?” Bess says, glancing between George and Nancy. Nancy lets out a breathy laugh and nods, moving towards the backseat.

“Let’s do it,” She says, and prays she’s making the right call.

~-~

It takes just under 13 hours to get to Bayport, New York, driving straight through. The girls take turns driving, attempting to go in three hour shifts so the other two can rest. Nancy ends up driving for the last five hours, too keyed up to rest, and too anxious to get there to sit still in the passenger seat. This is, without a doubt, the single most terrifying thing she has ever done in her entire life. And that includes facing down a murderer with a gun, attempting to out-drive a tornado,  _and_ being stuck in collapsing, flooding tunnels, while hallucinating ghosts. She’s reminded of the conversation she had with Frank in Germany, about how relationship talks scare her more than hunting down a dangerous saboteur. It’s more true now than ever before.

The girls find a diner in town they’ve gone to the previous times they’ve visited Bayport before, and Bess and George insist that Nancy just drop them off and go straight to the Hardy house. Nancy understands why when she pulls up and sees Joe and his mom, Mrs. Hardy waiting outside, waving at them. She offers a hesitant smile and a wave, both Bess and George wishing her luck as they climb out of the car and make their way over. Nancy takes a slow, deep breath, and eases out of the lot. She’s been here many times before, and in the early morning light it’s… peaceful, quiet. There’s soft gray clouds in the air, signaling the impending winter, and Nancy doesn’t doubt she’ll be able to see her breath when she’s outside. The drive from Chicago to here both took too long, and was nowhere near long enough, and before Nancy knows it, she’s pulling up along the curb in front of the Hardy’s house.

For a few long, agonizing moments, Nancy sits there with the car off, staring at the modest two-story house. It doesn’t look extremely different from the houses next to it, except for the number and some décor that Mrs. Hardy, Laura, has put up. It looks cozy and homey. And it feels just as much on the inside, Nancy knows, from Christmases spent here with her father while Hannah visits her own family, and times she’s crashed here between cases. Summers spent partially in Bayport as a young girl. She knows this town, this house, almost as well as her own. And maybe that’s part of why she’s terrified.

After what felt like hours, but was definitely only a minute or two, Nancy decides she can’t stay in the car forever—besides which, it’s starting to get a little chilly in here—and pulls the keys from the ignition, throws open the door, and climbs out. The walk up to the covered porch and front door feels like miles, rather than the mere yards it is in reality, and by the time Nancy reaches the door, her palms are starting to sweat from the anxiety. “Okay, Drew, you can do this,” she says, steeling herself, and taking a deep breath. “I can do this,” she murmurs, raising her hand to the door and knocking. It occurs to her after a moment that  _maybe_ she should have tried to doorbell, and she’s already screwed this up, and  _what is she thinking_ , she should just leave, now, before it gets any worse and-

The door swings open to reveal Frank, in a red Henley that fits his frame  _too_ well for Nancy’s sanity, his hair slightly disheveled like he’s only been awake for a little while, and loose flannel pajama pants. His eyes light up when he registers it’s her standing in front of him, only for a small wrinkle to form between his brows as they furrow in concern.

“Hey, Nancy,” he greets, enthusiastic as always, “what’re you doing here? Is everything okay?” He asks, offering her a quick, one-armed hug before retreating into the house.

“Hey,” she echos, allowing herself a moment to revel in how warm he is and how good he smells before there’s distance between them. “Everything’s… well. I’m okay, um… Can we… Can we maybe talk?” She asks, holding his gaze as it searches hers with worry and care.

“Oh! Uh, sure. Come on in,” he says, stepping back to let her into the house. She follows him in, taking in the warm foyer, the banister of the stairs tucked into the wall to her left, and the archway into the living room on her right. “I was just making some coffee, if you want some?” Frank offers, squeezing past her in the small space to head towards the kitchen at the end of the hall.

“I’m okay, thank you,” Nancy replies, half trailing after him, pausing to admire the pictures on the wall of the Hardy family- pictures of Frank, Joe, Laura, and Fenton throughout the years. A couple of pictures have her parents and her in them, some are of her, Frank and Joe. She’s seen them before, but, well. She’s stalling.

“You said you wanted to talk about something?” Frank’s voice drifts to her from the kitchen, bringing her back to the present moment.

“Yeah, I uh. I do,” Nancy replies, from the vicinity of the living room, her eyes caught on a picture on the mantle of the fireplace. It’s not one she remembers seeing before, but she recognizes Joe’s camera work from both the angle and semi-clarity of the shot. It’s Nancy and Frank, on a beach in Hawaii, not long after the case they solved together there. Nancy has a sunhat in her hand, her eyes scrunched up and mouth open in obvious laughter, while Frank grins at her, one hand in his pocket, and the other mid-gesture. They look… Happy. Happier than Nancy can remember being in a long time, and even more… The look in Frank’s eyes, on his face, as he stares at her… It’s a look she’s seen so many times before, always directed at her, and it makes her heart stutter to life in her chest. Like it hadn’t really been beating properly before this moment. He looks at her like he’s in love with her. Like she’s his whole world, his whole  _universe_ , and something new clicks into place inside her, filling her with a bubbling warmth that she can feel from head to toe.

“Joe took that one,” Frank says, suddenly behind her, making her jump slightly. She turns her head to look at him over her shoulder, “he showed it to mom. She thought it was just the cutest picture, she thinks I don’t smile enough, so she insisted on putting it up on the mantle,” he says, his face coloring slightly with a blush he attempts to hide behind his mug.

“I agree with her, you look… happy. We both do,” she says, looking back at the photo one more time, before turning to face him, catching that twinkle in his eyes as he watches her for a moment.

“So, what’s on your mind?” Frank asks, making his way over towards the coffee table and the couch. “You just got back from Austria with Ned, right?” He follows up, bent over to place the mug on a coaster and moving to sit on the couch.

“Well, I did just get back from Austria,” She says, “But… Ned and I broke up,” Frank freezes mid bend, staring at her with wide, owlish eyes, before he just plops the whole way down onto the cushion, blinking a few times to process the information.

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” Frank says, brow furrowed, “Are you okay? What happened?” He looks back up at her, and the genuine concern in his eyes takes her breath away. God, she’s so far gone for this man, isn’t she?

“It’s okay, and yes, I’m okay,” she replies, “it just… Wasn’t working anymore. We haven’t been… totally compatible, as a couple, for a while now. It just took me a while to see it.” She slowly starts making her way towards the couch, pausing to fiddle with a throw on the nearby chair, more for something to do than anything else.

“Well, that sucks,” Frank says, voice heavy with empathy, “I mean, you guys were together for a long time...”

Nancy nods, “We were. And maybe that’s why… Why it took so long, you know?” She asks, turning her gaze back on him, “For us to end things.” She makes her way over to the couch, and sits next to Frank, keeping a small distance between them, though when she angles herself to be facing him, and he mirrors her pose, their knees just barely touch. “It hurts less, than I thought it would,” She tells him, resisting the urge to start fiddling with her hair, “ending things,” she clarifies, “he said that we weren’t working anymore, and he was right. We weren’t. We’re gonna try still being friends, I think we’ll be able to. He is one of my closest friends, after all,”

“Well… That’s… That’s good,” Frank says, and pauses for a long moment to take a drink of his coffee, swallowing hard like he has a lump in his throat. “Do… You think you guys will ever get back together?”

And this is it, this is the moment she’s been waiting for. All she has to do, now, is take it.

“No, I don’t think so,” she says, “we’re such different people… It just wouldn’t work, and while a part of me will always love him, and he’ll always be my friend, I’m… not  _in_ love with him, anymore. Haven’t been for a long time, actually,” she takes a deep breath, and decides to just take the plunge. “In fact, I’ve… kinda fallen for somebody else,” She says, ducking her head slightly and chewing her lip as her red hair falls in her face.

“O-oh?” Frank asks, the couch shifting as he puts his mug back on the table, “You have? Who- uh. Who…? If you don’t mind, I mean you don’t have to answer, I just- I’m rambling, sorry.” He huffs out a nervous laugh, one that she echoes, finding the courage to look back up at his face, and feeling her heart swell at what she finds there. Curiosity, some anxiety, a lot of hope and maybe, even, a little bit of love under it all.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” she replies, answering many of his questions at once, “And that’s… That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about,” she says, smoothing her hair back. She gives her words a moment to settle in, watching his confusion deepen, warring with disbelief and hope in those stupidly gorgeous brown eyes of his.

“M-me? Why… Why would you want to talk to me… about… this?” He asks, clearly not quite believing what he’s hearing. Nancy gently reaches over to take one of his hands in hers, curling her fingers against his palm and swiping her thumb along the side of his index finger as comfortingly as she can manage, with her heart about to explode out of her ribs and all.

“Well, you see, somewhere… Somehow, without me even noticing, Frank… I… I fell for you,” she says, rushing to continue before she loses her nerve, “And it took me so long, so damn long, to even admit to myself that I’m completely, stupidly in love with you because I have…  _No_ idea if you even feel the same way, and then there was Ned, and you know I’m not good at relationship talks, and what if I screw everything up, and-” Oh. Oh he’s kissing her now. Okay. 

In the half second it takes her brain to catch up with what’s happening, Nancy’s body has already responded to the gentle, tender kiss Frank’s giving her. Her eyes flutter shut, and she leans forward into him, her free hand coming up to rest against his neck and hold him closer to her, while his gently encircles her waist as he leans over her. Her whole body is alight with pleasant tingles, and the final piece of the puzzle settles into place as her heart beats out a rhythm that feels a lot like how she feels when she walks in the door of her house, greeted by Togo, Hannah, her dad and her friends after a long case. Safe and warm, loved. But there’s an edge to it, as well. A point that if she were to push, could tip over into something explosive and fiery, passionate and  _amazing_ .

Frank draws back first, breaking the soft dance their lips had picked up instinctively, making her whimper as he does. Her hand migrates down to his chest, where she can feel his heart beating just as hard as hers. She slowly opens her eyes, meeting his incredibly soft gaze. He gives her hand a little squeeze, softly rubbing his free hand up and down her spine, sending pleasant tingles along her limbs. For a long moment, they just stare at one another. She allows herself to just  _look_ at him, and drink him in, feeling satisfied and like she’ll never get enough all in the same moment.

“You love me?” Frank finally whispers, like he can barely dare to hope...

“I love you, Frank,” she whispers, “so, so much. So much that it’s quite possibly driven me insane,” she can’t seem to decide if she wants to look at his eyes, or his lips, so she keeps flipping between the two. Her hand on his chest comes up to trace the shape of his cheek, thumb sliding along his top lip as she does. He presses a little kiss to it as it passes, then turns his head, freshly shaven skin smooth under her hand, and presses a lingering kiss to her palm, his hand gently leaving hers to trail up her arm to cup her cheek in his palm, fingers tangling in the long strands of her red hair. And with that simple motion, he’s stolen all the breath from her lungs, and words from her brain.

“I love you too, Nancy Drew,” He says, looking at her with a look so intense, so  _open_ and  _sincere_ , she can feel it down to her toes. She feels something in her uncoil and relax, the words  _He loves me, he loves me, he loves me_ playing through her mind in a loop.

“You do?” She manages out loud, her voice only shaking slightly. Frank nods, leaning close enough to rest his forehead against hers. Her hand slides down to rest on his shoulder, when he does.

“I’ve loved you so long, Nancy, that I’m pretty sure I always have,” he murmurs, bumping his nose against hers slightly. “And if you wanna do this? I’m all in.” Her eyes flutter closed on a sigh as she lets that settle over her. Frank seizes the opportunity, brushing a kiss over her forehead, over each eyelid, the tip of her nose, the apples of her cheeks, before he finally captures her lips in a sweet, but brief kiss. The warmth she feels flood her system at that simple gesture astounds her. When was the last time she felt like this? She doesn’t think she ever has, honestly. “I’m all yours,” he adds, pulling back slightly “for as long as you’ll have me,” her lips stretch into a grin, blue eyes opening to lock with his, finding his hand slot her fingers between his.

“And if I want you forever?” She questions, painfully aware of how cheesy she sounds, but unable to care, at the moment.

“Then I’ll be yours forever,” he promises with hardly a moment of hesitation.

“Good,” she says, leaning in to kiss him again, before a thought occurs to her. “Oh, that reminds me,” she says, pulling back enough to look at him, smiling a little at the disgruntled noise it pulls from him, “that detective agency you and Joe are starting? I want in,” it was a decision she’d come to in Austria, while thinking over everything. If she joined their agency as a partner, she’d have more excuses to work with them. There’s no reason she couldn’t keep doing what she does, help people who need it, or do favors for friends who ask. And this way, she gets to work with a team. With the one person who understands her better than anyone.

“Joe will be very, very happy about that,” Frank murmurs, “and so am I,”

“Yeah?” She’s definitely leaning in, now,

“Yeah.” And he’s definitely leaning in too. The distance between them closes, and Nancy lets a happy little sigh out against his lips, shifting closer, one hand moving to his neck, the other fisting in his shirt against his side, while his remain on her face and wrap around her waist, pulling her even more against him. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get enough.

So, of course, that’s when the front door opens, and a very loud, “I KNEW IT!” Comes echoing into the living room, making Frank and Nancy spring apart only to cast very startled looks at the small group standing in the entry to the living room. There’s Joe, with his arms held above his head in victory, Bess, glaring at him with an exasperated, but fond, smile, and George, smacking him upside the head with a blush. “Ow! What was that for, George?!” Joe exclaims, rubbing the back of his head while Nancy spies Laura just over Bess’s shoulder, her hand to her lips while her shoulders shake in silent laughter.

“You obviously scared them, Joe!” Bess says,

“And I was closer than Frank, so I figured I’d smack you for him,” George tacks on, Joe’s wide gaze swinging around to Frank in mock horror.

“I mean,” Frank says, sharing a quick look with Nancy before looking back at his brother, “she’s not wrong.”

“I am hurt,” Joe says, putting his hands to his chest in a dramatic manner, “when have I ever hurt you, Frank? What did I do to deserve your ire?” The gleam in Joe’s baby blue eyes letting Nancy know he’s only teasing. Frank lets out a tired sigh next to her, even as his arm winds it’s way back around her waist to draw her closer. She goes willingly, a smile she can’t fight appearing on her lips.

“Where to even start...” Frank says, which makes everyone except Joe laugh. Joe, instead, scowls at his older brother.

“Well I  _was_ gonna tell you how happy I was that you  _finally_ did something about the torch you’ve been carrying for Nancy for an  _eternity,_ but I guess I won’t do that anymore,” Joe instead turns his attention on Nancy, “Nancy, I’m so glad my idiot brother finally grew a pair and decided to tell you that he’s hopelessly in love with you.” Joe says succinctly. It would be startling, or unsettling, if it weren’t so…  _Joe_ .

“Wha- I have not been carrying a torch for her for  _an eternity_ , Joe!” Frank responds, indignant. Nancy smothers giggles behind her hand, to which Frank gives her a shocked look of his own, his eyes sparkling too much for there to be any actual anger or upset behind the expression, his eyebrows raised high on his forehead. Nancy gives a little shrug and a smile in return. After all, she’s pretty sure she’s had feelings for him just as long, even if she wasn’t aware of it.

“Yes, you have, Frank,” Joe says, oblivious to the silent conversation happening between the two on the couch. “And let me tell you guys, it has been  _torture_ listening to him  _pine_ over her for  _years_ -”

“I did not  _pine_ -”

“And, I, of course, couldn’t tell him to do anything about it, because Ned is a dear friend of mine-”

“That is  _not_ true-”

“So what was I to do, choose between my brother and my best friend?” Joe finishes dramatically.

“… I thought I was your best friend,” Frank says, his head tilted slightly at Joe, who nods.

“You are. Ned’s my other best friend. Nancy has two, so can I,” Joe reasons. Bess rolls her eyes and sighs, coming over to sit on the couch on Nancy’s other side, shaking her head at the boys, while George heads for the armchair next to Bess.

“ _Any_ way, we’re really happy for you guys,” Bess says, cutting Joe off, who nods as he comes around to the last remaining seat in the living room. Nancy and Frank shift to accommodate everyone in the room, Nancy curling into Frank’s side with ease and marveling slightly at how well she fits there, like she was made to fit right here, next to him.

“Yeah,” George says, “I couldn’t see it at first but… I get it now, and it’s  _definitely_ been a long time coming,”

“A looooooong time,” Joe tacks on, to which Nancy and Frank nod in agreement.

“Oh! Yeah, Joe,” Frank says, “Nancy decided to partner with us in our new detective agency,” And Joe’s jaw practically hits the floor, before glee takes up his face and he shifts forward to the edge of his seat.

“Really?!” He says.

“Really, it’s always been nice to work with you guys, and it’ll be nice to work together again. Plus, y’know...” Nancy shrugs kind of gesturing to herself and Frank, before he captures her hand in his and twines their fingers together again, placing a soft kiss to her hair.

“Well, I’d say that’s great, but if you two are going to be this sickening the whole time, I think I change my mind.” Joe says, making a face at them. Nancy sticks her tongue out at him, and she can practically feel Frank rolling his eyes.

“Well I think they’re cute,” Bess says, offering Joe a challenging gaze, which Joe rises to meet, and soon the pair- mediated by George- are debating about something totally unrelated, and Nancy and Frank are completely ignored once again. Frank shakes his head at them all, meeting Nancy’s gaze with a ‘can you believe this?’ kind of look. Nancy smiles, and shrugs, leaning up to briefly kiss him before settling back against his chest, her ear pressed to his heart. His hand comes up to stroke her hair, occasionally throwing a thought into the discussion rapidly building around them, his voice rumbling under her in a pleasant way.

So she hadn’t meant for this to happen. That was okay. Because sitting there, curled up in Frank’s arms with their friends bickering playfully around them, Nancy knows she made the right choice, and that some things? Some things are beyond her control, beyond explanation, and those things? Well. In this case? It might just be the best thing that’s ever happened to her.

So when Laura comes in to tell Joe to help Bess and George put their stuff in the guest room, and the sound of bickering disappears down the hall and out the door, Nancy hatches a small plan of her own. 

“You know,” Nancy starts once everyone’s out of earshot, lifting herself up off of Frank’s chest to look at him, “There’s only the one bed in the guest room, and Bess and George are gonna be fighting over covers as it is all night...” Nancy trails off, eyebrows starting to arch in question.

“That sounds… unpleasant,” Frank agrees, the sparkle in his eyes telling her that he’s caught her drift, and is just playing along now, “like sharing a bed with Joe.”

“It really is,” Nancy agrees, “So I was thinking… that  _maybe_ , if you don’t mind… I could… stay with you tonight?” Nancy asks, looking up at him through her eyelashes, her free hand playing idly with the hem of his shirt.

“Let me make sure I’ve got this right,” Frank says, his voice a playful rumble that sends shivers down her spine, “You want to stay with me, in my room?”

“Mhm,” She nods, becoming more interested in their entwined hands

“In my bed?”

“Mmhmm,”

“Where I will also be?”

“If that’s okay with you, of course,” Nancy says. Frank frees his hand from hers to hook under her chin and gently tilt her face back up to his.

“I think we can work something out,” Frank says, leaning in to seal the deal with a warm, spine-tingling kiss.

Oh, yeah, Nancy could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> I spent way too long on this thing, and wrote the first draft in an almost fever haze of inspiration. I haven't written like this in actual literal YEARS, but it's been a blast working on this. Seriously, I haven't had this much fun writing in so long.
> 
> I noticed a lot of Frank/Nancy fanfictions are from Frank's point of view, but not Nancy's, so I thought I'd play around in her head for a bit. I'll admit that I pulled some personality elements of Nancy from the CW show, because I just love her portrayal there so darn much, and it lent itself to my purposes very well. It was fun to play around here, and work my way up to these two being together. This fic absolutely got away from me though, good lord. Oh, and as always- I am my own beta, so if you find any errors, lemme know.
> 
> I also maaay, if anyone's interested, have a sequel in mind... Let me know if any of you would like one, and if you made it this far? Thank you for reading this entire monster, omg. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.


End file.
